The Passionate Italian 11 DECEMBER EPUB (16 page)

He pulled her towards him, encircling her in his arms, as she snuggled into his chest and closed her eyes, almost purring with an intoxicating blend of satisfaction and desire as he continued to feel her and caress her with his hands and his body.

“I love you, Giovanni.”

“I know you do.”

“You are one conceited man.”

“No. There is no point in pretending. We were always meant to be together. It just took you time to make you see it.”

“Are you calling me slow?”

“Ah, tesorina mia.” He kissed her hair, her cheek, her lips. “Slow, but worth waiting for.”

“The thing you may not know about us slow, but steady, girls, is that we have staying power.”

“Is that so?”

She wriggled around him, stroking up between his legs with her nails.

“Indeed.”

Rose smiled with satisfaction as he entered her once more.

“You are not suggesting that us more fiery types do not have staying power?”

“You know me, I always need proof.”

“Then you shall have it.”

“On my terms.” She smiled as she twisted around until she was seating astride him, still connected.

“I will let you play for a while, cara. But when you wish to be serious, let me know.”

She eased herself up, off him, and held herself there before sitting fully on him once more.

He groaned and turned her around until she was on her back with no place to go, but under.

“Now, Giovanni, now.”

Their gaze met and didn’t stray, intent on experiencing their passion through each other, obliterating all other experience, all other thought. All they could be was in this moment with each other, each giving and receiving, exchanging the essence of each other.

Then she closed her eyes and cried out in ecstasy as her body flexed around him, bringing him to his own climax, deep inside her.

Slumped around each other, spent of emotion but still intimately entwined, they lay for a long moment until slowly thought and feeling returned.

The night deepened and grew more wild. Rain thundered down on the windows and roof, muffling their words and echoing their cries. Lightening periodically lit the room, casting an icy white light over their sweat-slicked bodies.
 

And still their lovemaking continued.

The more they discovered about each other, the more each was willing to give and surrender to the other.
 

Giovanni was right, this was just the beginning of their passion—a passion that seemed without limit.

They lay quietly together, listening to the storm raging outside and within, she in his arms.

“No more secrets Rose.”

Whether it was an order or a desire, she couldn’t tell.

“No more secrets,” she whispered—her words expressing more a wish, than a promise.

It wasn’t until much later that Giovanni felt Rose’s limbs relax completely and her breathing quieten and deepen.

The storm was dying, still punctuated with gusts of wind that rattled the windows and distant crackles of thunder. But Rose lay sated and peacefully asleep. Her body relaxed and in total abandon, arms flung wide, a leg wrapped around his.

Giovanni smiled. It made him deeply happy to see her relaxed, without the stresses and worries that made her
 
sleepwalk; no defensive posture, indicating her guard was up; just the essence of the lady he loved. She’d opened herself up to him and he’d gladly taken what she had to offer.

Giovanni wrapped a stray lock of her hair around his finger and kissed it. He felt his heart beat solidly within him and could see the faint movement of the thin skin at her wrist pulse with her life beat, in time to his own. Her delicacy and her strength overwhelmed him.

He traced a fingertip across her breast, watching her skin rise in goose bumps and the nipple pucker in response to his touch. She was exquisite and he couldn’t get enough of her.

She sighed and moved her head closer to his, seeking out his presence in her sleep. Her hair tumbled over the pillow and onto his chest. He closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair, inhaling her and holding her there—wanting to keep that way forever.

He concentrated all his senses on the feel of her even breath on his cheek.

Hours passed, intensely savored, until he, too, drifted into a dreamless sleep.

CHAPTER TEN

Dawn broke dull and drained into the uncurtained bedroom. The storm had blown out leaving a strange yellowish light over the lake and forest.

Rose’s body felt at ease and relaxed, despite a severe shortage of sleep. When she’d not been dozing, she’d either been watching, or making love to, Giovanni. She’d had too many years without him—nights when she’d cried herself to sleep because she couldn’t remember his face. She was determined to imprint every inch of his face and body into her memory this time. Just in case.

Gently she teased her body from his grip and walked over to the window. It was the same view as yesterday but her life had changed forever. Her present and her future were with him now.

She turned to look at him. He lay unmoving, the covers pushed to one side, revealing his body softly shadowed in the dim light.

She could appreciate his beauty now that her body was satisfied. Last night the intensity of their love-making had been all encompassing; there had been no room for thought, for mental processes of any kind. But in that strange light of day, she wanted to experience him at a different level, one that was separate from the night’s passion.

She walked quietly up to him looked first upon his sleeping face: relaxed and beautiful. It was always beautiful but it was usually overwhelmed by the strength of his character. This morning, however, the worry lines around his eyes had faded, as had the tension surrounding his mouth. The arrogance and dominance had disappeared and the inner man was revealed, not the man that his family and his fate had made him. She moved to touch him but stopped short. Instead she retreated and reached for her robe.

She frowned as she slipped it on.

She’d lied.

There was still one more secret she hadn’t shared. One more, which would hopefully become unimportant in a few days once the trial was over. Only then could she relax fully, knowing the threat of Alberto had disappeared.

In the meantime she had to push it to the back of her mind. Nothing could come between them, their love was too strong.

She leaned out the window, breathing deeply of the fresh, morning air. Beneath the open window was a drift of white scented flowers that were almost luminous in the dull light. Despite the niggling worry, everything—from the beauty of her surroundings to the satisfied languor of her body—reminded her of the absolute joy she’d found in Giovanni’s arms.
 

It was as if they’d never been apart but for one thing. But surely one secret wouldn’t hurt. Particularly when the only other person who knew it was to be incarcerated for years. Giovanni would very possibly never find out. The truth need never surface. She need never have to face giving Giovanni the painful news about what his brother had done.

But what if something went wrong? What if Alberto was acquitted and Giovanni discovered everything?

She withdrew from the window as the morning chill began to penetrate her robe. It wouldn’t happen. She couldn’t let it. She’d make sure her report gave Alberto’s prosecution as much ammunition as she could find.

She picked up her hairbrush and began to beat her hair into submission.

It wouldn’t happen.

Once dressed in the smart work clothes Milan society demanded, she stepped back into the bedroom.

“Come here.” The voice was sleepy but the command was unmistakable.

She perched on the side of the bed and held out her hand to him.

He grabbed it and held it tight.

“Why are you up so early? The meeting isn’t until this afternoon.”

“It’s OK for the boss to laze around but the workers have work to do this morning.”

“Leave the completion of the report to your team. They can do it. I need you here.”

“No. I have to finish this. I need to.”

There was something in the tone of her voice that made Giovanni sit up and take notice.

“Why?”

“Because there’s too much riding on it.”

A dull ache settled in his gut.

He noticed then, that she was dressed for work; that she’d slipped back, away from him, into her professional mode. He also noticed how her glance barely rested on him.

The ache turned into something much worse.

The dull light was suddenly sharpened by a ray of sunlight that had broken through the gloom. It illuminated her hair, creating a halo of light, within which he could see no detail.

“Come here. Closer.”

She stepped away. “Look, I have to get back this morning. I’ve arranged for Guido—on the mainland—to pick me up. You stay here, relax. I’ll see you later this afternoon.”

He lay back, numbly, trying to fight the feeling that Rose had just slipped away from him again. He heard the distant hum of the motorboat approach.
 

“We’ll both return this morning. You can finalize your report—we’ll need it for the courts—and I’ll catch up with my work before this afternoon’s meeting. I’ll tell Guido that you don’t need the lift. I’ll take you. We’ll return together. There will be no more parting.”

The heat of the sun had burnt off the remaining strands of murky haze that clung to the lake, leaving the air clear and fresh—full of possibilities.

Sitting beside Giovanni, holding his hand and watching the soft pink of early morning dissolve into rainbow hues through the breaking waves, Rose thought she’d never seen anything more beautiful. If only there wasn’t the specter of Alberto hanging over her. Just forty-eight hours to get through and then all would be well.

The return drive passed by quickly. Lost in her own thoughts, Rose was relieved that Giovanni didn’t question her any further on her change in mood. She tried not to let it show, but it seemed that he sensed whatever was on her mind.
 

Soon. The need for secrecy, for fear, would be over soon.
 

When they pulled up outside the Palazzo, Rose could see tension once more in Giovanni’s face.

“I’ll wait.”

She smiled. “I’ll be fine. Besides you need to prepare for the meeting as much as me.” She felt a flutter in her stomach looking at his frown.

“It doesn’t feel right, leaving you alone.”

“Come on. After today, we need never be apart. I promise.”

“Si certo. I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

“Just this once. It’s too important—you need to prepare and so do I. I’ll see you in one hour.”

“That means two.”

She laughed at the scowl on Giovanni’s lips and reached over to kiss him. It was meant to have been a peck but Giovanni slipped his hand around the back of her neck and the kiss became long and passionate. She shifted back into her seat and moaned under his lips, her hands slipping into his hair and pulling her hard to him.

He pulled away, his eyes dark with desire.

“I’m coming with you. I want you.”

“You always want me.” She felt the thrill of knowledge and sureness of his love as she’d never done before. “But you mustn’t. Let me prepare myself—go over the findings once more—and I’ll be in the office before you know it to brief the team. It’s too important.”

“Go then, but be in my office at ten. We’ll go over the report with the team together. And Rose?” She turned to face him, ready to close the door. “Don’t be late.”

“As if.” She laughed and hopped out. “Not for this meeting anyway.” She slammed the door closed and watched as Giovanni roared down the street in the black Maserati.

She couldn’t be late for this morning’s meeting. Everything had to be right for this afternoon when they met with the board of directors and all the family. Except Alberto of course. He was stuck in Switzerland awaiting trial. He wasn’t allowed to leave the city, let alone the country.
 

Just as well, she thought as she entered the empty entrance hall. She wasn’t sure that she would be able to do what she had to do, if Alberto was there.
 

As much as she hated the elevator for its noisy instability, she pressed the button. With the work still in progress on the winding attic stairs, it was the only means of access. She looked around at the mausoleum of a house.
 

She’d be pleased to leave it and make her home somewhere else—somewhere new to them both. There was too much history here—centuries of it in fact. They both needed somewhere different to start afresh.

Then it struck her. The lift was taking its time clunking its way down to her.
Down?
It was usually sitting in the basement. She shrugged. Perhaps the workmen had used it last.

On reaching the attic, she swept the grille aside and walked out into the suite of rooms. The neutral colors were bathed in the morning light giving the room a vibrancy and life that the rest of the house didn’t share. She flung her bag on the table and quickly plucked out a different suit from the dressing room. If you’re going to alienate your mother-in-law and accuse your brother-in-law of large-scale theft, you may as well look smart.

She switched on the shower and went over to the desk—a slab of pale wood in front of the window—to gather together her papers. She reached into her briefcase to withdraw her laptop and her heart missed a beat.

It was empty.

It had been there just the previous day. She looked around, suddenly freaked, panicking. She paced up and down, searching the closets, the cupboards, bags, everything. But it had disappeared. What the hell? She had back-ups of course, but everything she had was on that computer. She would never have left it here except for the state-of-the-art security system that Giovanni had installed.

She switched off the shower and returned to the bedroom, pulling out her clothes one by one and throwing them on the bed.

She must have left it at work. She reached over to pull her cell phone out of her bag but that wasn’t there either. Was she going crazy? She’d had the damn thing only moments before.